Hunter's Moon
by Shadowblade217
Summary: The Tenth Doctor becomes involved in a scientific expedition to a mysterious pyramid on an island near Antarctica. Upon entering the ancient structure, however, the group discovers that the pyramid is occupied by not one, but two deadly alien races.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or Alien vs. Predator.**

_**Hunter's Moon**_

**Chapter 1 – Voyage of Discovery**

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_Beyond time and space…_

A machine that was not what it seemed moved through the Time Vortex; a large blue box, the size of a man, drifting through the space between dimensions. A light flashed atop the machine, signifying the complex systems that were at work helping it to move along its course.

To those who were familiar with it, this machine was known as the TARDIS (_T_ime _A_nd _R_elative _D_imensions _I_n _S_pace). It was a living machine, containing an entire miniature dimension that allowed it to have infinite internal space. It had been designed as such by its creators, a race of ancient beings known as the Time Lords.

Within the machine, a man stood next to a circular control console, built around a translucent pipe that rose up to the distant ceiling. The machinery was active, whirring gently as it guided his vessel through the vortex.

This man, to everyone who was familiar with him, was known as the Doctor.

With a heavy sigh, the Doctor leaned against the console, rubbing his eyes and staring wearily down at the floor. It had been too long since he'd had another person to talk to, but after recent events, he simply couldn't handle another companion right now. After his recent battle with the Master, he'd shut down somewhat. The death of the only other surviving member of his species, and the departure of his latest companion, Martha Jones, had hit him hard. He'd become somewhat depressed, if such a thing was possible for him. His usual enthusiasm for the constant adventures that constituted his life had ebbed. His recent adventure on the _Titanic_ had helped to relieve his depression somewhat, but he was still feeling what a human would refer to as "down".

His head lifted suddenly, as a blue light began to flash on one of the screens and a beeping sound rang out.

"Hmm… what do we have here, then?" he murmured, turning to the screen in question and flipping several switches. "What've you got for me this time?"

Examining the display more closely, he realized that it was some sort of homing beacon; a powerful one, at that. The signal from this thing could be received across the galaxy, provided you had the right type of receiver. Given that the TARDIS basically possessed one of every type of receiver you could need, it was understandable that it could pick up a transmission that would have been undetectable to anyone else.

"Interesting," the Doctor said, flipping a few more switches and pressing various buttons on the console. To an observer who didn't know how to operate the TARDIS, it would have seemed as if he had no idea what he was doing. That was usually how he operated, to be honest.

A map of the Milky Way galaxy, with each star system represented as a tiny glowing dot, appeared on the screen where the signal had been received. A set of six numbers appeared in the upper right corner of the screen, the numbers changing rapidly as the instruments identified the date and time of the message. The image zoomed in, a set of crosshairs appearing on the screen and pinpointing a particular system; one he recognized instantly.

The Doctor sighed. "Of course."

A _ding_ sounded from the screen, and a summary of the results popped up on the screen. _Location: Earth. Date according to human calendar: 2004 A.D._

"Why is it always like this?" the Doctor asked out loud to no one in particular. "What is it about 21st century Earth that so many aliens like it?" When no one responded, he turned back to the screen, muttering, "Mysterious alien homing beacon of unknown origin? Well, _obviously_ I'm going to follow it." For the first time in quite a while, he grinned and started dashing around the console, flipping various levers to alter the ship's course. The room began to shudder as the TARDIS accelerated, tumbling through the Vortex towards the source of the signal.

The Doctor laughed in glee, continuing to dash around the console as he performed a dozen tasks at once. "Allons-y!"

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As the TARDIS approached the origin of the signal, the Doctor consulted the instruments, bringing up an image of the beacon's origin point and its surroundings on one of the screens. The image was of a small island, rocky but almost entirely covered by massive ice sheets. According to the readings, the island was called Bouvetøya, and it was almost two thousand kilometers north of Antarctica.

"Well, whatever that beacon is, it's under the ice," the Doctor mused, tapping a hand on the console speculatively. "Now, I _could_ just teleport the TARDIS down to the source, but then I'd run the risk of materializing it inside the glacier, and that wouldn't end well. So…" he adjusted the instruments, looking for another method. His eyes fell on something interesting, and he leaned in. "Hello… what's this?"

Clearly visible on the screen, about four hundred miles from the beacon's source, was a large ship, steadily making its way towards the island. Clearly, whoever was on that ship was intending to make landfall there.

"Well, all right, then," the Doctor said to himself with a smile. "Simple. Just land on that ship, and go in with them. Perfectly acceptable."

Altering his approach slightly, the Doctor grinned and flipped a lever, engaging the ship's teleportation mechanisms.

With its usual cacophony of whirring, wheezing sounds, the TARDIS finally landed with a resounding thud and a jolt that caused the Doctor to stagger, bracing himself against the console.

Running fingers through his hair, the Doctor pocketed his sonic screwdriver and psychic paper, and headed for the doors.

Opening the wooden doors cautiously, the Doctor looked outside, immediately flinching back from a gust of frigid air that blew into the TARDIS through the doorway.

"Well, that's unpleasant!" he exclaimed to himself. Crossing his arms to hold his coat more securely around himself, he ducked out through the doors and into the storm outside.

It was immediately apparent that he'd aimed correctly; he was undeniably on the ship. He'd landed the TARDIS inside the ship, fortunately, but a door was open nearby, and cold air was pouring in from the outside. Through a window, he could see the gray sea outside, waves churning and rocking the vessel.

Contemplating his surroundings, the Doctor made sure that the TARDIS doors were closed and locked, and then headed off down one of the corridors.

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Alexa Woods walked into the hold of the research vessel _Piper Maru_, glancing around at the other men and women gathered into the immense room. She'd been constantly on the move for the past three days, ever since a representative of billionaire Charles Weyland had plucked her off of Mount Everest and recruited her to join this mission.

She still had no idea why she'd been contacted, however.

"Nice toys," Lex murmured under her breath as she inspected the hardware that had been provided for their expedition; ten tracked Hagglunds vehicles, as well as powerful earth-moving machinery and everything that might be needed for a prolonged expedition on the ice, including premade shelters, cold-weather gear, oxygen tanks, and portable electric generators.

Although Lex had been on countless expeditions like this one in her life, she'd never seen one that was this well-prepared.

Following her escort over to a makeshift briefing area in one corner of the room, filled with rows of folding chairs, Lex exchanged glances with Graeme Miller, a chemical engineer who'd been on the helicopter with her.

"That's some pretty fancy gear over there," she commented, indicating a pair of huge drilling rigs in the center of the room, each the size of an eighteen-wheeler.

"Wonder what it does?" Miller asked.

Before Lex could tell him, someone else commented.

"Well," a voice with an accent that Lex initially couldn't place said, "that right there is a sophisticated thermal exchanger. So my guess would be some kind of drilling device based on heat."

Lex and Miller turned, seeing a man who looked to be in his early thirties standing behind them. He smiled. "I'm sorry, that was somewhat rude of me." He shook Lex's hand, then Miller's. "Dr. Sebastian de Rosa, at your service."

Miller smiled back. "Don't tell me… physicist?"

"Archaeologist, actually," Sebastian explained. "My colleague Thomas and I have an interest in anything that digs or tunnels."

"The mystery deepens," Miller observed, grinning nervously. "We have a chemical engineer, an archaeologist, and an environmentalist. I even met an Egyptologist over there. So what are we all doing on the same boat?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "I presume one of us is the murderer. That _is_ the tradition, isn't it?"

Lex grinned, charmed. Noticing a Coca-Cola bottle cap hanging from a leather thong around Sebastian's neck, she asked, "What's with the bottle cap?"

"It's a valuable archaeological find," Sebastian said matter-of-factly.

Looking around the room again, Lex spotted one man who didn't seem to belong there; a tall man with tousled brown hair, wearing a brown pinstripe suit and a long brown overcoat. Rather than looking tired or exhilarated, he seemed fascinated by his surroundings, looking around rapidly as if he was trying to take in everything at once. His curiosity was oddly endearing, and Lex chuckled softly as she saw him turn completely in a circle, looking up the entire time, and trip over his own feet, stumbling and nearly falling.

A yell of "Keep your hands off the hardware or you'll be wearing your own ass for a hat!" drew her attention to Miller, who had apparently clambered into one of the drilling rigs to examine it and was now being scolded by one of the operators, a large, muscular man with a long scar running down his cheek. Miller scrambled out of the cab and down to the floor as Lex approached the rig.

"Nice team spirit," she commented coolly.

The man, who she noticed was wearing battle fatigues, glanced at her, then over to Maxwell Stafford, the person who'd organized the mission.

"Keep the Beakers away from the gear," he muttered, walking away. "Just keep the goddam Beakers away from my gear!"

That drew several catcalls and some derisive laughter from his men as they followed him.

"What's a Beaker?" Miller asked curiously.

Lex sighed. "It's what they call scientists out here. You know, Beaker? Like in _The Muppet Show_?"

Miller nodded. "Ah, got it. Beaker. I kinda like that."

"The briefing will start in five minutes," Max Stafford called. "Please take your seats."

The men and women in the hold seated themselves in the folding chairs, grouping themselves according to profession. Lex found herself seated between Miller and the young man in the brown coat, who was looking around with interest.

Max Stafford, a well-dressed African-American man, stepped up to the podium in front of the rows of seats.

"May I have your attention, please, everyone?" he said into the microphone, immediately drawing the focus of all the personnel in the hold.

Stafford nodded, paused for a moment, and then continued. "My name is Maxwell Stafford, and I've been authorized by Mr. Charles Weyland to lead this team…"

Stafford paused in surprise as another man approached the podium.

"Mr. Weyland," he said in surprise.

"Thank you, Max. I'll take it from here." With that, Max Stafford stepped back, and Charles Weyland took his place at the podium.

Although Weyland was in his late forties, there was no gray present in his thick black hair. As always, Weyland had a golf club in one hand; that was part of his image and something he was known for.

Leaning on the golf club with both hands, Weyland spoke into the microphone. "Hopefully you've all had a chance to freshen up or get a little sleep. If you haven't, I apologize. I know that some of you have only just arrived, and that all of you have traveled a very long way to be here, at very short notice. Let me assure you, however; your journey has not been in vain."

Weyland gestured to the large bulkhead behind him, which flared with as a projector activated.

"Seven days ago," Weyland continued, "one of my satellites over Antarctica was hunting for mineral deposits, when a sudden heat bloom beneath the earth outlined this." He pointed to the image, which changed to a red-and-yellow infrared map. Most of the screen was illuminated in pale yellow and orange, but in the middle of the screen, a large series of interlocking square shapes gleamed bright red.

"This is a thermal image," Weyland explained. "The red lines indicate solid walls; the orange, solid rock. My experts tell me it's a pyramid; what they can't agree on is who built it and when."

Sebastian de Rosa leaned forward, his gaze locked intently on the images as he analyzed the shape. It _did_ look like a pyramid, seen from above.

"What caused the heat bloom?" his assistant Thomas asked.

"We don't know," Weyland replied. "But one expert has told me that this feature is reminiscent of the Aztecs."

The image behind him shifted slightly, the angle changing.

"Another says that it's probably Cambodian."

Another image appeared on screen.

"But everyone agrees that the smooth side is definitely Egyptian."

Sebastian and Thomas nodded in agreement.

"Why would anyone build a pyramid out here?" Miller wondered.

"Ancient maps show Antarctica free of ice," Thomas said. "It's likely that the continent was once habitable."

The young man seated beside Lex muttered something to himself. For a moment, she swore she'd heard him say, "Not as long as _humans_ have been around, anyway…"

Lex glanced over at him. "Did you say something?"

Startled, the young man looked back at her. "Hmm? Oh, no, no. Nothing."

Shrugging, Lex turned back, to see that Sebastian had stood up and was approaching the image. Weyland glanced over to him. "Dr. De Rosa?"

"I think your experts are right," Sebastian said, examining the pictures of the pyramid more closely.

"Which one?"

Sebastian smiled. "All of them." He turned to face the rest of the room. "The Egyptians, Cambodians and Aztecs all built pyramids. Three separate cultures, that lived thousands of miles apart…"

"With no communication between them," Thomas added.

"Actually…" the man next to Lex murmured under his breath.

"What?" Lex asked, turning to face him again.

He looked up at her and blinked. "Sorry, just talking to myself. It's nothing."

"Yet what they built was almost identical," Sebastian continued, clearly on a roll now. "This is clearly a temple complex. A series of pyramids, probably, and here is the central road connecting them."

A ripple of excitement ran through the scientists in the room. Weyland paused briefly for effect, resting his golf club on his shoulder.

Ignoring the commotion, Sebastian remained focused on the image. "Almost identical," he said softly.

"Meaning what?" Lex asked, speaking up.

Sebastian turned to face her. "This might be the first pyramid ever built."

"Built by whom?" Miller put in.

Sebastian grinned, excitement flaring in his eyes. "The master culture from which all others are derived."

Weyland disagreed. "If it could be the first pyramid, it could also be the last; an amalgam of the ones that came before it. There's no proof of any connection between the cultures you cited."

"This photo is the proof," Sebastian insisted.

Miller decided to speak up. "I can't tell you who built it, but if I could get a sample from it, I could tell you how old it is."

"Within how many years, Professor?" Max Stafford asked.

"Actually, it's Doctor," Miller answered. "And I'll give you the exact year; I'm that good."

"Well, Dr. Miller," Weyland said, "I'm offering to put you right next to the thing."

"Where exactly on the ice is this thing?" Lex asked, perplexed.

"A small island about four hundred miles east of here," a man's voice called out. The tones were accented, British by the sound of it.

Lex turned, to see the man who was sitting next to her stand up, making his way to the front of the room. "I can tell by the satellite image, and I've got our current coordinates on a, uh, GPS unit I brought with me. Wasn't too hard to figure out, really."

Lex stared at him for a moment in surprise, but her eyes widened when she realized the importance of his words. "Wait…" She turned to face Weyland. "So, that means it's on…"

"Bouvetøya Island," Weyland confirmed. "Only, it's not on the ice. It's two thousand feet under it. The pyramid is located directly beneath an old whaling station, which we'll use as our base camp." He pointed to the other side of the room from Lex. "Mr. Quinn?"

The man rose, causing Lex to frown when she saw his face.

_Oh, great,_ she thought sourly.

"Mr. Stafford, Mr. Weyland," Quinn said, "you're looking at the best drilling team in the world. We'll chew to that depth in seven days."

"Add three weeks on top of that to train everyone here," Lex interrupted.

Weyland looked over at her and shook his head. "We don't have that kind of time. I'm not the only one with a satellite over Antarctica. Others will be here soon, if they aren't already."

Lex stared at him in surprise. "Maybe I wasn't clear," she said. "No one in this hold is ready for this trip."

Weyland smiled. "That's why I invited you here, Ms. Woods. You're our expert on snow and ice."

Lex glared back at Weyland. "Bouvetøya is one of the most isolated places in the world. The nearest land is a thousand miles away; there's no help for us if we run into trouble."

Weyland nodded. "You're right; it is a no-man's-land. But…" he glanced around. "The train has left the station. I think I speak for everyone aboard this ship when I say… this is worth the risk."

Lex looked around, troubled by the sight of nothing but enthusiasm in the eyes of everyone present. The only other person in the room who seemed to share her misgivings was the young man in the brown coat. He met her gaze from the other side of the room, apprehension mingled with curiosity in his eyes.

Lex shook her head slowly, looking away as the projected image vanished and the lights reactivated.

"That concludes our briefing, gentlemen and ladies," Weyland called out. "Dinner will be in ninety minutes. I flew in one of my own chefs from my hotel in Paris; the filet mignon will be excellent." He locked eyes with Lex. "Will you be joining us?"

Lex hesitated, then shook her head and stood, turning and walking out of the room.

"Find another guide," she called over her shoulder as she exited the hold, unaware of the curious pair of brown eyes that were watching her leave.

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**AN: Hello, everyone, and welcome to my new story, **_**Hunter's Moon**_**! I've been toying with the idea for this story for a while, and I finally decided to write it down. Just to clarify, this story takes place in 2004, during the events of **_**Alien vs. Predator**_**; relative to the Doctor's timeline, it takes place after the events of **_**Voyage of the Damned**_** and before the start of Series 4.**

**For those of you who are probably wondering; yes, I will be including the perspective of the Predators in this story, not just the Doctor and his human companions. Should be interesting; we'll see how it turns out!**

**I always appreciate feedback on my work, so if you have any questions or comments regarding this chapter or the story as a whole, please review!**

**See you all next time!**


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